Mind Games
by BlackCatRunning
Summary: The relationship has always been the same. I hate you, you hate me. But when someone changes the way the game is played, when someone redefines the rules, things get pretty screwy. WARNING: Yaoi pairing! SHIZAYA!-Read and review, please :D
1. Normalcy

**A.N: Special delivery for Tenshi-no-Hikari! Thanks again for the amazing plot idea 3! I started out with the "seduction" plot in mind, but it ended up spiraling into something bigger, I think XD. Izaya seems to play the "dominant" role in a lot of your comics (which is the best XD!), but in here he turned out more on the submissive side. Your comics really inspired me to write this, as I told you before, so I hope the story turned out okay ^^**

**To the FanFiction public: If you like the Shizaya pairing, or anime in general, take a look at Tenshi-no-Hikari's awesome, adorable comics! http :/ tenshi-no-hikari. deviantart. com/ (minus the spaces, since this site has a fear of links for some reason LOL)**

**Caution: Yaoi pairing! :D (Oh, and they don't really get "together" until a few chapters in XD; sorry for the pacing, I wanted it to be realistic T_T).. Oh, and profanity. There's a lot of that LOL… OH! And I promise this won't end in R-rated promiscuity :D! Aside from fluff, drama and swearing, this is clean, I promise :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Durarara!, any of the characters, ideas, memorabilia or affiliates associated with it. I am not trying to steal anything, I promise! :3**

1. Normalcy

Attractive.

Probably the only world Shizuo could associate with the bastard. Not in the sense that he was handsome or anything, but in the sheer certainty that every freaking time he went for a walk, he'd run into him. Some way, somehow, that damn flea would come prancing out from behind a dumpster, or slip out from an alleyway. He could bet his life on it.

He bet Izaya's life on it every time, the slippery mother. The guy always got away somehow, worming out of his grip like a fucking-…well, worm. No, he was lower than a worm. He was dirt, he was the germs in the dirt, the microscopic cells that make up those germs. He was the invisible matter. He didn't matter.

He was the worst.

And Heiwajima Shizuo _despised _him. _Abhorred_ him. Hell, he wanted to kill him every time he saw him. Was there a word to convey that level of dislike? Was there? It was just his face, that damn smugness that he always had. What Shizuo wouldn't give to really give the guy a shock, really shake him up. Do something that Izaya couldn't predict.

Because Orihara Izaya couldn't predict everything, could he?

No.

_Hell_ no.

And that's when hot coffee spilled all over Shizuo legs. He sprung up with the surprise, not so much the burning pain, and grumbled, "Shit." He had been getting so fired up over that bastard that he had gone and strangled his coffee mug to death. It lay in shards on the floor, amongst the brown, scalding liquid. "Fuck."

He always did this. Not that he didn't come to expect it by now, naturally, but the saying, "you don't know your own strength" was a daily occurrence with him. And it got old. Really old. Sighing, attempting to swallow the remainder of his anger, Shizuo crossed his apartment and ducked into the kitchen to grab a towel.

Stupid flea. Even when he was truly alone he couldn't stop thinking about him. Scrubbing at his stained pants with a vacant expression, Shizuo closed his eyes, trying to push the image of that ridiculous man and his switchblade from his mind. All it did was piss him off.

"Bastard. I'm going to kill him next time I see him."

* * *

Izaya pitched forward with a sneeze, hunching his shoulders as he walked down the sidewalk. He didn't bother lifting his hands from his pockets, and just rubbed his nose on the shoulder of his jacket instead. Namie wrinkled her nose at him, not even bothering to give a polite "bless you," or anything of the sort.

"Better not be catching a cold, because _I_ certainly won't be tending to you," she said, voice bland. She hitched up her brown grocery bag, full to the brim of Izaya's request orders. Cooking for him was certainly a chore. Izaya only laughed at her, tilting his head back to look at the sky.

"Ah, Shizu-chan must be talking about me," he said, his grin as smug as it could get. Namie rolled her eyes. Izaya was always talking about the man, whether about how much he hated him, or how excited he was to blame the poor guy for another crime. It irked her that someone he apparently hated so much was always cropping into the conversation.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just know," he stated, plain as day. With him, Namie speculated, perhaps he _did_ somehow know. He was an informant, after all. A dangerous job, but he didn't seem to mind most of the time. Sure, it made him countless enemies and she was practically the only person who could stand to be around him, but what did that matter to Izaya? He was above all of that. He was above people, humanity. And by now, after all this time watching him work, she was inclined to believe it. Nothing could take him off guard. She blinked as he sneezed again, this time yanking out his hands to cover his face. She made another face at him.

"I mean it, Izaya. I'm not going to nurse you back to health or anything."

"Relax, it was only twice," he said, straightening back up, smirking again. "Shizu-chan is talking badly about me." He seemed proud of this. Namie readjusted her hold on the groceries.

"Why you seem prideful, I have no idea." She stared ahead, shaking her head to get some hair out of her face as the faint, chilly breeze blew it around. Then she mumbled at him. "Why do you even believe in that stuff?"

"Because," he said, wrapping an arm around her as he leered, wide smile very close to her face. "It's completely true." When she gave him a strange look, he only closed his eyes to smile wider, putting his arms behind his head. As he walked ahead, he spoke to her, or perhaps to just himself.

"I should pay Shizu-chan a visit today," he said, nearly fondly. "He probably misses me."

Namie snorted a derisive spout of laughter, shaking her head. "As if, Izaya. The man hates your guts. He wants you _dead_."

"Therefore, he thinks about me on an incredibly intimate level," he said with complacency. Namie, behind him and therefore not facing him, didn't see the light pink tint that spread over his cheeks. Izaya's smile was gone. "Taking a life is serious business, isn't it Namie?" Thinking about it, about how close he and Shizu-chan really were, made him uneasy for some reason. It was just a harmless game of cat and mouse. Dog and flea. He was the annoyance, and Shizuo was the antagonist. It spanned no greater than that. It reached no higher ground. There was nothing else.

Just hatred. Just that old resentment they've known since the moment they first saw one another… And yet… Izaya's eyebrows knitted together, but he forced himself not to stew on it. Just hate. That was all it was. All it would ever be.

* * *

Shizuo, having washed his pants to the best of his manly, nonchalant ability, gave up about halfway and left them out on the back of a chair to dry, hoping vaguely the stain would just disappear. If he left most things alone, they usually took care of themselves. Or at least, that was his experience. His closet held within its depths several more pairs of the same exact pants, hanging next to identical shirts and ties. No need to fret. Besides, he could probably convince Tom to buy him a pair if he really needed them. Or he could buy them himself. Nothing to worry about.

As he fingered through his closet, his fingers stopped at the edge of one shirt in particular. A ripped one. A ruined one. A bloodstained one.

The one Izaya had touched.

Shizuo felt heat rise up from his belly. God, it ate him up. That damn flea. Always defiling one thing or another. He was relentless, that bastard. He could never get away from him. His hands tightened around the fabric, threatening to rip it further, when his phone started ringing. He glanced over at it, the rage draining away. Saved by the bell, he guessed. He didn't bother glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello?" He stripped some pants from the closet, shaking them out.

Tom's voice echoed over the receiver. "Shizuo. You're late, where are you? We were supposed to meet someone today." There was a pause. "Settle a debt, you know." Tom didn't sound angry in the slightest. At the most he was amused by Shizuo's lack of presence. "Did you oversleep?"

"Shit, Tom," Shizuo muttered, now hopping on one foot as he tried to wrestle on his pants while holding the phone. "I forgot, sorry."

"No problem," Tom said, and Shizuo knew him well enough to know that, on the other side of the phone, he was waving his hand in polite dismissal. "It happens."

"Not to me." The blonde, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, managed to button up his trousers, and then jog to the door to slip on his shoes, straightening things up as he went along. "Where are we going again?"

"That guy on the south side. The one with that beard who borrowed money for-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," Shizuo said, snatching his keys and grasping the doorknob. "I remember him." He paused, hand to the knob, eyes slowly slitting. He spoke with a sort of dawning surprise. "I hate that bastard."

"Shizuo," Tom chuckled over the tinny receiver. "You hate _every_ bastard."

There was a reverent silence while Shizuo shrugged, sidling out the door. "Yeah, well. Guess so." His free hand fit the key into the lock, and turned. He listened to it click. "I'll be there in a few." Then he hung up.

Turned around.

Became immediately enraged.

"Shizu-chan!" Izaya threw out his arms, trademark jacket lifting slightly as he did so. "Surprise." Shizuo, fists beginning to ball up and tremble, had to seriously restrain himself from laying the man out right then and there, in his apartment building.

"_What_ are you _doing_ here?"

Izaya leaned against the hallway, hands now in his pockets, grin as wide as ever. "Just thought you missed me. Figured I should drop by." His eyes darted up to meet the blonde's. "Been a while since we've seen each other."

Shizuo slipped on his sunglasses, taking marshalling breaths, focusing his mind on Tom. Tom needed him for a job. He was on duty. He didn't have time for the damn flea right now. He didn't have time. He would just have to save it for later. Everything gets sweeter with time. It would all be worth it. It would all be worth it.

Izaya cocked his head with Shizuo didn't snap back with something to say. He slowly began to frown. Well, this wasn't what he was expecting. He tried another tactic. "Shizu-chan is so quiet! What's on your mind-"

"Shut the fuck up and get out of my way," he said, brushing past him roughly. Izaya, by instinct, clenched his switchblade as Shizuo moved closer. But then he was just-…walking away. How strange. How very curious. He was leaving? Since when did he walk away from something like this? On his own home turf, too.

"Running away?" Izaya called after him. He got nothing in return. His last comment was nearly tossed in desperation. "Tail between your legs, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo, not even turning back, just gave him the finger. Well, it was something at least, and Izaya approved of it. For now. It was certainly not enough to be satisfactory. What would make him just give up like that? Was he sick? Was he hurt? No, couldn't be. So why was he suddenly so disinterested?

_He can't stand to see my face, _Izaya mused, fingering his blade inside of his jacket pocket. _And yet he doesn't take the punch when I know he wants to._ Very curious. His face broke into that smile again; the smile everyone knew well. The I'm-Going-To-Make-Your-Life-A-Living-Hell-For-My-Own-Personal-Enjoyment smile. He looked at the clock hanging in the apartment hallway, over the elevator. It was about 8:30. That meant a full day of annoying the shit out of Shizu-chan until he decided to fight him, like normal.

"If he wants to play hard to get," Izaya whispered, slowly pulling out his knife. He flicked it open, watching it gleam in the hazy fluorescent lighting. "We'll play hard to get."


	2. New Strategy

**A.N: Here's chapter 2!.. Does anybody else hate the way FanFiction doesn't let you have any indentions? XDDD**

2. New Strategy

Shizuo, sprinting the entire way, using the exercise to drain him of his anger, managed to reach Tom within a few minutes. He wasn't waiting that far from the apartment. He slowed to a gradual stop, panting a little as he took the momentary break to put on his tie. Tom just stared at him with a small smile of appreciation.

"Good to see you could make it," he said, checking his watch. Shizuo smoothed back his blonde hair with his fingers, swallowing. Running always made his throat dry.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late," he said. "Ran into that damn flea on the way out."

Tom could only roll his eyes in that knowing manner he had. "Of course you did. How badly did you beat him? Or did he run away?"

Shizuo grunted a negative for both questions, pulling his black tie straight, feeling almost-…calm. Tom sensed this about his bodyguard, and raised an eyebrow as Shizuo spoke. "Neither. I just told him to fuck off and left."

Tom could only stare at him as Shizuo lifted a box of cigarettes to his lips and pulled one out with his teeth. Only when he started lighting it did he notice the intensity in which he was being stared at.

"What?"

Tom crossed his arms, looking almost proud. "Are you finally taming that temper of yours? I'm pleased, Shizuo!" At this, Shizuo could only give a deep chuckle under his breath, removing the cigarette from his lips, letting the smoke seep out as he spoke.

"Like hell," he said simply. "I just didn't have time for him this morning. If I had been on schedule, maybe."

They both shared a small bout of laughter on this, and the mood brightened. Shizuo put Izaya far from his mind, trying to focus on his job, on his cig, on the bright yet nippy day. Who needed the flea anyway?

So the first half hour of the day was fairly relaxing. Shake up a Southside debtor, hang back behind Tom and scare the shit out of people passing by. Striking fear into the hearts of helpless pedestrians is of course never Shizuo's intention, and it hurt sometimes, to think how frightened people got when they saw him.

Ne, screw it. He couldn't be anyone but himself, and Heiwajima Shizuo was just an intimidating guy. The only one who didn't seem afraid of him half the time was Tom, and well-…to an extent, the flea. His body stiffened. Damn flea. Nothing he could do but think about him, even when he wasn't around. As if Izaya, instead of imposing his physical presence, could project his image into Shizuo's mind and with Izaya, Shizuo couldn't be sure that he didn't have this ability. The man was insane, after all. He had all the terrible qualities a human being could possess while still remaining human. Or _was_ he human, the bastard?

Tom elbowed Shizuo discreetly, still smiling at his client. "You do realize, sir, that if you don't have the money now I might be forced to extract it from you."

Shizuo's focus immediately turned onto the man in front of him. The one with the scraggily beard, blotched wife-beater and beer gut. The man shrunk back from them both out of instinct. He had heard things about the blonde bartender.

"Look, I said I'm gonna get the money," he said, voice stronger than he felt. "Just gimmie a little more time."

"We've given you plenty of time," said Tom, smiling even as he gave Shizuo a pat on the back. The pat that meant, "go get 'em, tiger." Shizuo sighed under his breath, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and stubbing it out with his shoe. He started to take off his glasses. The man started to panic. He scrambled back, shaking his head vigorously.

"Look, man! I said I'd get you the money!" His eyes darted from Shizuo to Tom, then back again. "It don't have to be like this!"

Tom didn't dignify it with a reply, and merely turned his head as Shizuo started forward, unbuttoning his sleeves. That's when Tom froze, eyes trained on the smirking figure about ten feet from him. He reached up and massaged his forehead. "Great."

"Shizuuuuuu-chan~!"

Shizuo, who already had his hands on the front of the guy's shirt, tightened his grip. He was hunched, stooped over the shorter, albeit fatter, man. Slowly, his head turned to the source of the name. Only one person called him that name.

Izaya, waving energetically with his knife in hand, was calling for him. He looked terribly delighted, which was always a worrisome development with Izaya. Shizuo let go of the man, dropping him to the ground, and the guy scuttled away before Shizuo could divert his attention back to him. Tom, with a sagging heart, watching the man escape.

"Shizuo," he said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We have work to do. Let's go." Tom didn't need another fistfight to waste his time, another wild chase throughout the city. Izaya was faster, Shizuo was stronger. Both could execute astounding feats of parkour. Knowing them, they would be all day, and Tom just didn't have that kind of time. "Come on."

Normally, with Izaya, even Tom's advice was hard to swallow. The flea's face just annoyed Shizuo so damn much. It was all he could do not to ignore Tom, rush forward, and kick Izaya's ass. Izaya's face right now, so arrogant. It made him sick. But for Tom, he would restrain himself. He would try his utmost best. Tom put up with his outbursts, helped funnel them into a quasi-positive outlet. He would try and keep himself in check. Just release this rage on the scum that got away from him just now.

And that's when he saw it.

That's when he saw that twitch in Izaya's cheek, his smile.

That irritation.

Izaya was frustrated.

And it was probably the most rewarding thing Shizuo had ever seen in his life.

The fact that Shizuo wasn't reacting, wasn't verbally sparring with him, wasn't getting severely pissed off and trying to beat the shit out of him, was making Izaya mad. It was aggravating him far more than any level of attempted ass-kicking could.

It was beautiful. The rage drained away, and it was replaced with a buoyant amusement. Shizuo, keeping a close eye on Izaya's face, merely slipped his glasses back on and smiled, hands now in his pockets. He appeared relaxed.

"Sorry, flea," he said, grinning. "I have some business I have to attend to."

Izaya's expression, before stealthily guarded, now opened into an obvious face of dislike. His smirk was long gone, replaced with a growing frustration that he couldn't seem to shake.

"So," he said, trying to be coy. Trying to regain what composure he had lost moments before. He twirled his knife, approaching him little by little. "You're just going to let me go? No fight? Are you afraid you'll lose?"

"No, but kicking your ass would be all day, and I don't have time for it," Shizuo said quite plainly. Tom glowed with pleasure. Finally, the one distraction that kept Shizuo from work seemed to be fading off into the white noise. Thank goodness.

Izaya only chuckled, now within striking distance of the bartender. He reached out, and pressed the blade to the side of his face. "You used to enjoy it. What's happened, Shizu-chan? No more games of chess?"

Shizuo didn't move. While this little episode, this display of utter egotism that usually infuriated him, was grating on his nerves the small tic in Izaya's eye was enough to keep his temper at bay.

"I like this game much better," he said in a low, quiet voice. The shock on Izaya's face was tangible. And if Shizuo hadn't chalked it up to the sunny day, he could have sworn Izaya's face tinted pink around the edges. He turned his back on him, as did Tom, and the both of them walked away into the distance, leaving a confounded Izaya behind.

He just stood there, face hot, heart pounding. He gripped his switchblade so hard, he thought it would leave a bruise on his hand. _I like this game much better_. What did that even mean? Shizu-chan was acting strange, and what's worse, it seemed to be having a perverse effect on Izaya. The raven-haired informant reached up and felt the twinge on his cheeks, the blush there. Must be all the adrenaline rushing up. He had been prepared for an amazing fight, after all. The pent-up energy, not used for a chase, was manifesting itself in other ways. That's all he could think to say about it.

But he hadn't expected this. Not at all. He _knew_ Shizu-chan. He _knew_ that man like the back of his own hand. All he had to do was show up and he was greeted with an itchy bartender, ready to rip into him with everything he had. He enjoyed the chase, the mind games they played with one another.

Perhaps…this was just a new level.

Yes, maybe Shizu-chan was stepping it up a notch, was upping the wager. Izaya felt more comfortable with this notion. It made him feel more at home, less exposed. The pink flush around his face slowly faded, heart rate dimming down. He still couldn't seem to shake the sweating palms, though, and he had to keep scrubbing them on his pants as he strolled down the sidewalk, stewing on his next move. What would he do?

What _should_ he do? This was a drastic new strategy that Shizu-chan was imposing, and it meant that he needed to develop a crazy, mind-blowing one of his own. More so than he already had. Stalking him, meeting up with him out on the street wasn't enough. He needed more. Something to really push that Shizu-chan over the edge.

But _what?_


	3. Stepping it Up

**A.N: Yay! New chapter! Sorry for the wait :D. Hope everyone likes it so far! Thanks so much for reading, and review are always appreciated :DD. I want to get better ^^! Look, Izaya starting to realize his feelings XD!**

3. Stepping it Up

It was mid-afternoon before Shizuo saw Izaya again. During the time between their encounters, Shizuo had thought about him often. The look on his face. How pathetically angry he seemed. It was, in a severely disturbed and twisted way, cute. Izaya was cute when he was angry, and it happened so rarely that Shizuo had never noticed it before. Almost like they were switching roles. Instead of Shizuo flaring up with a bad temper, looking for a fight on sight, Izaya seemed to be the one on the offensive.

It felt very good to be the one to sit back, smirk, and enjoy the antics of the other. Maybe this is how Izaya felt. He was always looking down on people, watching them react to certain things that he did to them. He liked it, the perverted bastard. But Shizuo could definitely see the appeal in it. Over the course of the morning, he had worked it all out.

If he didn't react, if he didn't get mad, Izaya's strategy would backfire and hit in the other direction. Izaya would react. _Izaya_ would get mad. It was just downright satisfying. Why hadn't he thought of it _years_ ago? It was rewarding, interesting, and shockingly fun.

It was kind of like an old board game your friend wants to play. You wouldn't suggest the game, you wouldn't be excited to play it, but if someone offers you'll surely join in for a good time. Shizuo didn't care enough to seek out the flea, but if Izaya showed up again (as he always seemed to do), Shizuo wouldn't complain.

The challenge of the game was that it would probably get harder. Izaya was smart; Shizuo knew that. The flea had probably already figured out the rules. One of them had to get mad, and Izaya would try harder and harder to ensure is was Shizuo who popped. It would be up to Shizuo to stay calm, to ignore him. It would be hard, but deliciously gratifying. He chuckled to himself as he lifted his cigarette to his lips, his second one of the day. Tom glanced over at him as they exited the townhouse of a loyal client.

"What's with you?" he asked, not knowing whether to be concerned or elated. Shizuo, ever since that morning, had been acting strangely subdued. Happy, even.

"What do you mean?" Shizuo asked, not bothering to look over at him. The sun was brighter by this time of day, and his eyes squinted even from behind his sunglasses. He grinned as he looked down both sides of the street. Izaya was somewhere looking for him. He would bet a million yen.

"You just seem so…" Tom trailed off, trying to think of a suitable word. "Cheerful."

Shizuo could only laugh at this, removing his cig with two fingers and flicking some ash on the ground. "Oh, come on. Am I not allowed to be happy once in a while?"

"I've just never seen you smile so much."

"Well, I smile," he said, voice getting a little deeper. He was starting to feel defensive. Was it _bad_ for him to be enjoying this so much? He suddenly dropped his cigarette, mouth falling open. Fuck, did that mean he was turning into the_ flea?_

Tom, seeing Shizuo's now horrified expression and fearful that he had ruined the mood, gave the blonde a little push down the stoop, hurrying into his next statement. "Glad to see you in such high spirits, Shizuo! Really, I am. It's a wonderful change. More animated-like. I think you're even scaring off less people than usual."

They both took this moment to assess the current population level, and sure enough, less people seemed to be shrinking back from them. The sparse masses nearby weren't staring at him as much. His shoulders sagged anyway. He felt like a bastard.

"I'm such a bastard," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. He stomped on his cigarette, snuffing it out. Tom tried to catch his eyes, quizzical.

"Shizuo, what-?"

Then they both tensed up at the next spoken word.

"Shizu-chaaaaaaaan~!"

Tom hung his head while Shizuo removed his glasses to better pinch the bridge of his nose. "Shit," he said. Just who he wanted to see. He felt like such a jerk for wanting to incite the same reactions as Izaya did, so the game wasn't as much fun. But when he glanced up at Izaya, looking more exasperated than angry, he could see the falter in the rust-colored eyes. It invigorated him, just a little.

"What is it?" he asked. He wanted to silk over his tone to sound as normal and pleasant as possible. The people nearby who had been running for their lives at the sight of the two men together now stopped and glanced over their shoulders. Heiwajima Shizuo sounded almost…_cordial._

Izaya was just as surprised by the tone of voice, and he lost his edge, if only for a minute. His cheeks, while no one could see from that distance, started feeling hot again. But he smirked, brandishing his knife. "I came to see if your work was done." He twirled his knife, letting it surf through his agile fingers. "I want to play."

Shizuo, shrouding his annoyance in a sigh that he hoped sounded more tired and angry, slipped his glasses back on and started fishing in his pockets for his pack of smokes. "You know, Izaya," he said in the voice that normal people reserve for casual small talk with acquaintances, "I think you and I should have a truce."

Izaya's stomach was starting to feel funny. That voice. That damn voice he was using. It actually caused him to visibly twitch. It was so soft, so deep and silky, like chocolate. And he was so calm, funneling all of his masculine, laid-back energy into one outlet. When Shizuo's lips touched the butt of the cigarette, sliding it from its safe packaging, Izaya felt his gut clench; it made him gasp.

"Fuck," he muttered. Shizuo looked up at him.

"What was that you said?"

"I said, 'what?'" Izaya hoped that the words "fuck" and "what" sounded enough alike to pass off as slips of the tongue. His face by now was burning, his hands sweating so badly that he might not have been able to fight effectively. It was strange and surreal to him. He wasn't even listening to Shizuo, who was spouting off some shit about being genial to one another.

"-so then we might actually live our lives, instead of chasing each other all the time. You could leave me alone, I'll stop running after you, and people will stop fearing for their lives and property whenever they see us together. How about that?"

The crowd, including Tom, was in utter disbelief. It wasn't until Shizuo turned a critical, annoyed eye to them that they all starting milling around again, bustling by one another to get home just in case the bartender was truly angry with them. Izaya, who was struggling to speak, didn't know what to say. When no one said anything, Shizuo himself felt a little strange. While before, all that time before, he had been hiding his anger, now it was truly draining away. To see that damn adorable expression on Izaya—not just rage, but also sheer speechlessness—was too much to be angry at. It was just too fucking cute. Shizuo, unable to really understand why, chuckled at him.

"Funny face, Izaya," he said. Tom was watching them both, looking back and forth between them. It was a miracle. It was just…miracle. Izaya, as if snapped back to the world with that comment, held his knife straight out, eyes dead and serious.

"Fight me, Shizu-chan," he commanded. His voice was deep. He was trying to take unwarranted authority from somewhere, and to Shizuo it was endearing. And when Izaya saw that the only thing Shizu-chan would do was smile at him, Izaya trembled with the force of his voice. "Fight me, dammit!"

"No," he said. He felt bad and good all at once, when he said that. He felt good, because he knew he was winning, but he felt bad for the same reason, because Izaya was losing. Some tiny piece of Shizuo, in the very back of his own mind, loved to fight the flea. He hated violence, of course, but exchanging verbal and physical blows with Orihara Izaya was a pleasure, was a pastime. Shizuo was sure that Izaya felt the same way. The flea was just doing a terrible job, in comparison, of hiding it. At the denial, Shizuo smirked as Izaya threw a little mini-tantrum, stomping one foot.

"The fuck, Shizu-chan! Why not?" No one was close enough to see, looking hard enough, but Izaya was shaking. He was just so _angry. _Was this how Shizu-chan felt whenever he saw Izaya? Was this how mad he felt? Was this was it was like, to be Shizu-chan? To be so angry he didn't know what to do except lash out? Luckily for him, and for the rest of the world, he didn't get angry like this often and when he did he had the necessary control to restrain himself from throwing vending machines or refrigerators. Shizuo just turned away from him, half because he wanted to leave and half because he didn't want to be pinned by that cute face anymore.

"Because I'm going home, Izaya," he said. Izaya stiffened when Shizuo used his name, and not flea, or idiot, or fucking asshole or something. Tom, who determined for the best that today's work was done, followed after Shizuo. Izaya grit his teeth, but managed a snarky grin.

He pointed his knife at Shizuo again and closed one eye, staring at Shizuo's back in comparison with his blade. "You _will_ fight me, Shizu-chan." Shizu-chan didn't say anything, and Izaya slowly lowered his weapon, slitting his eyes like a cat. "You will fucking fight me."

And Izaya believed it, with every fiber of his being. He would _make_ that man angry enough to fight him. Some way, somehow, he would.

Shizuo, smile gone, felt a little melancholy as he walked away from the fight. It wasn't like him to feel this way, especially with Izaya, but somehow he felt sad. He felt _guilty_, which was completely uncalled for. Why should he feel guilty at all, especially with the stupid old flea? The thought irked him, made him frustrated. Tom could see all the conflicting emotions playing out on the bartender's face. He didn't want to interrupt, certainly, but he felt inclined to speak.

"Shizuo?" he asked. He got a grunt from said Shizuo in return. "What was that all about? Are you two on different terms?" He mused over it when Shizuo didn't reply immediately. "Like a role reversal or something."

Shizuo shook his head, still really unable to explain the whole thing. The relationship was complicated, and it got more complex every second. He didn't have the energy to try and narrate the latest development. "I don't know," he finally grumbled, adjusting his glasses. "To hell with it." He straightened up, determined to just forget the whole thing. The game was over, he had won. Izaya had lost. Things could get back to normal, or something close to it, he supposed. He escorted Tom up the street to an office building.

"Will you be all right from here? I'm just going home."

Tom thought it would be for the best, seeing as he seemed so off kilter. He thought Shizuo needed rest, or at the least some relaxation. Shizuo waved off his concern. It was unfounded. Tom was just being Tom, worrying about him too much. Izaya didn't mean that much to him.

So he went home. He went home to his still-coffee-stained pants, the crackling television, the old fridge with hardly anything in it. He went home to all that, trying to forget about the day. It was just too weird for him to really process.


	4. The Development

**A.N: Chapter 4 is heeeeere! Thank you SO MUCH for all of your nice reviews! Keep them coming! :D. Writing Izaya like this is SO MUCH FUN XDDD.**

**EDIT: Also, corrected the problem with Shizuo's eye color, I think XDD. Sorry, I don't know why I thought they were blue.. XDD**

4. The Development

Shizuo climbed the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck as went. It was only the afternoon, but somehow he felt exhausted. Sure, he hadn't exerted himself at all today, but holding himself back was just as tiresome as lashing out, even more so. Wandering up the stairs, he approached his door, reaching out to put the key into the lock, when he noticed that the door was already ajar. The wood was cut, hacked away. Someone had broken in.

"What the hell?" He slowly pushed the door open with his flat palm, standing under the doorframe. The room was spotless. Everything was in its place. Nothing had been moved, opened or touched since he had left. Yet, something still seemed peculiar. Shizuo was not one to fear intruders, but he didn't want strange people in his home. He thought for a moment, for a fleeting moment, that it could have been the flea. But it was such a long walk, and he would have seen him, since the only practical way home was down the street. Of course, Izaya could have scaled a few fences, hefted himself over a couple walls and such, but…would he really go to such trouble?

Probably.

Shizuo scoffed at his own thoughts of Izaya. Maybe he needed a vacation. Thinking about the bastard all the time was strenuous. He put his phone and keys down on the kitchen table, slipping off his shoes and sitting them by the door. He would make a light lunch, and then settle down for some television. Maybe he would go out again tonight. As he mused, he shuffled into the bathroom to do his business, when someone sprung out of the tub and latched onto him.

Following instinct, he yelled at the top of his lungs, reached behind and seized the fabric of the man's back, peeled him off of his body and flung him, rather forcibly, against the porcelain plumbing. It was Izaya, naturally. He lay slightly crumpled, wedged between the floor, the counter and the toilet. His blade was in his hand—firm in his hand—and dripping with red. Shizuo felt the hot trickle of blood at the back of his left shoulder. His temper went from zero to boiling point in about two seconds.

"THE FUCK, IZAYA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY FUCKING APARTMENT?"

_There_ he was. _There _was the Shizu-chan Izaya knew. Rising gracefully from his position, Izaya assumed his arrogant, flaunting persona. He grinned with what could only be delicious fulfillment. "Why, Shizu-chan~! I came to fight you, of course. I figured if you wouldn't do it in public, you'd rather do it here."

"WHAT GAVE YOU THAT IDEA, ASSHOLE?" Shizuo advanced savagely and Izaya dodged, so Shizuo's fist slammed into his toilet, cracking it and springing a water leak. This just made him angrier. He would have to fix that. There was a serious problem with fighting in his own home.

He would break things.

He would have to pay for them.

Izaya probably knew this.

"Our fights are very intimate, Shizu-chan~," Izaya continued, skirting around him with his blade. He flashed out and tried to slash him, but Shizuo went forward at the same time. Shizuo hardly felt the slice of the sharp knife, but Izaya surely felt the hard hit to his face. It stung, then roosted on his cheek and burned. Burned badly. He brought his sleeve to his face, feeling some blood in his mouth. "Just you and I. Our passion."

Izaya was just messing with him now; he was just playing with him, like he always did. Shizuo roared at him, this time ripping the toilet from the floor and lobbing it. Izaya hit the deck and crawled as quickly as he could out of the bathroom while the toilet crashed through the wall. Izaya was laughing.

"Ah, Shizu-chan is so passionate today~!"

"DAMMIT, I WILL _KILL_ YOU!"

Izaya felt the cold swell of momentary panic when Shizuo laced his hands around his ankles, yanking him like an abusive father would drag a naughty child. Izaya, futilely, tried to use his fingers to cling to the hardwood, but of course that didn't do him a damn bit of good. Shizuo snatched the back of his coat, jerking him up, and Izaya plunged the knife into Shizuo's arm, sticking it there, holding it there. Shizuo's hands went to Izaya's neck, pulling their faces close. He growled, ignoring the searing pain in his upper limb.

"You fucking ass," he snarled. "I'll _kill_ you."

Izaya's voice struggled to leave his throat due to the fact that Shizuo was choking him, but the raspy noise still managed to sound smug over everything else. "Oh, Shizhu-chan~!" He was grinning, bring his hands up to grab Shizuo's sides, around his abdomen. "Don't stop, naughty-!"

Shizuo's pupils dilated, and he gave a hiss of disgust before flinging Izaya as far away from him as he could. The knife, still tightly in Izaya's hand, was ripped out. He couldn't help but grunt in pain, hand pasting to the wound as blood leaked out. Izaya sat up from under the kitchen table, rubbing his throat, breathing carefully. Shizuo had one hell of an arm, throwing him like that.

Shizuo's voice was deep. He was still very angry. "You're revolting. Just damn disgusting, you know that?"

"Aw, Shi-" Izaya paused here to cough into his fist. A dry, wracking noise. He swallowed again, trying to continue on with his sentiments. "Shizu-chan, you know you live for this~."

Shizuo's glare only deepened. Well, yes. Yes, he did. Sometimes, for brief seconds. Encountering Izaya on the street, as much as it irritated him, was the most exciting part of his days. He crossed the room to his kitchen cupboard, breathing a little heavy from the sudden rush. After fishing around, he managed to find a roll of bandage for his shoulder. It would stop bleeding soon, but he didn't need blood all over the floor.

"Why are you even still here? Get out before I fucking try to kill you again," Shizuo said. He didn't look back at Izaya, but heard him start coughing again. It went on longer this time, and Shizuo scoffed at him. "Shut the hell up, flea. I didn't squeeze that hard."

Izaya's breathing was still wheezy, but all he could do was dizzily grin. Finally, everything was back to normal. All was right with the world. He collapsed onto the floor, stretching his back along the wood, sighing as a cat would in the sun.

"Ah, Shizu-chan is back to normal," he said, voice scratchy. "Thank goodness~."

Shizuo glanced over at him, one eyebrow raised. He was getting irritated again, but only a little. And that was bound the happened whenever he was around Izaya. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Izaya rolled over onto his side, clearing his throat, closing his eyes. It was just such a relief. Not fighting with Shizu-chan had been, to an extent, frightening. "Before, Shizu-chan kept acting all weird~. You didn't want to fight me. And now, you did." He grinned faintly. "I win, Shizu-chan~!"

Shizuo listened, beginning to smirk. So, Izaya hadn't picked up on the new game after all? The game where Shizuo plays dumb and Izaya gets flustered. He started taking off his shirt, so he could get to his wound. He made only a small noise of discomfort when he had to lift his arm. "Oh, no. I think I win," he said. And his voice was calm again. Silky. He was feeling confident and superior. Izaya could hear it.

The informant's face started to turn a little pink. He swore under his breath. Not this again. This was supposed to be gone.

"How so?" Izaya asked. He wanted to sound natural. His voice cracked. He prayed Shizu-chan would chalk it up to his strangled windpipe.

"I started a brand new game, that's how," he stated. His shirt was now completely off, bare chest to the open air. He trapped a strip of gauze under his arm, and then started wrapping it around. It was sort of hard to do alone.

"New game?" Izaya's mind was frantically turning. New game? What new game? When did they start playing this? He cinched his hands shut, swallowing again. His throat was dry. His stomach was jumping. He glanced up at Shizuo, to assess his expression, and saw that he had on _no fucking shirt_. His face faded red, burning, and there was nothing he could do about it. The area on his cheek, where Shizuo punched him, was beginning to bruise.

"Yeah, new game," Shizuo continued, still trying to wire the bandage around his arm. He was feeling pretty calm all of a sudden. All of the frustration was gone now. He liked talking with Izaya when Izaya had no idea what was going on. It made Shizuo feel smarter, a level up. It was a good feeling.

"The game where I try to bug the shit out of you." He grinned, looking over at Izaya. The raven-haired man was still on the floor, propped up by an elbow, glancing over his shoulder. His face was really red though. Had he hit him so hard the blood rushed to his head or something?

"Hey, you okay?"

Izaya's stomach turned over, clenching up, and he looked away immediately, sitting up and hunching over.

"What? Oh, yeah. Naturally, Shizu-chan~." He tried to put on his arrogant tone, his 'I'm-better-than-you' tone. It wasn't working so well. He could feel Shizuo staring.

"Well, fine then," the blonde said, then sighed impatiently. "Hey, could you get your ass over here and help? Least you can do for stabbing me."

Izaya couldn't help but think to himself, _what do I owe you?_ Somehow, the answer seemed to linger in the back of his mind. He didn't want to go over there. Not because he didn't want to-…well, be with Shizu-chan. He kind of liked being with Shizu-chan. That's why he chased him around sometimes. But it was obvious that there was something about himself that Izaya couldn't control. These constant gut-clenches, the sweatiness, the blush. He couldn't fix any of that. He jumped with Shizuo addressed him again.

"Asshole! I said come over here and help me, dammit!" He groaned in defeat. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need it."

Izaya started standing up, but his legs felt weak. Why was he so fucking nervous? What was so scary about walking over to stupid Shizu-chan and wrapping his arm up? He loitered over to him, not carrying his natural confidence, averting his eyes. When he was close enough to touch Shizuo, he forced himself to make eye contact.

"I'm only helping because you asked so nicely~," he said with customary sarcasm. His hands, shaking slightly, reached forward and took the bandage from Shizuo. Their hands brushed; Izaya blushed vigorously.

Shizuo studied him like he would study a hardy mold. He frowned, disconcerted, but couldn't look away. "Do you…feel okay?"

"Fine," Izaya muttered, focusing on wrapping the gauze. He tried not to let his eyes wander anywhere. What was wrong with him? Why was this so-?... He flushed further, breath catching as he realized all the implications. Oh, fuck.

Shizuo reached forward and grasped Izaya's hand, feeling it tremble inside his own. "The hell, Izaya? Why are you shaking?"

Izaya could only snatch away, stutter out something stupid. "You _did_ just beat the shit out of me, S-Shizu-chan. Only natural~." All he could think about was the damn way Shizu-chan said his name. With concern, in the silky tone. No anger. Only conversation. Damn! Dammit dammit!

The longer Shizuo watched it go on, the more concerned he became. Izaya had gone from a cocky stud to a bashful high-schooler in the span of about ten seconds. He couldn't stop shaking, he would cringe from time to time, he was sweaty, blushing. What was _wrong _with him? Shizuo reached forward, grabbing Izaya's face to force him to look him dead in the eye. With the sunglasses gone, having fallen off during the fight, it was rust-red on brown. Direct connection.

"Seriously, Izaya. What's wrong with you? You look bad."

Izaya's heart shuddered at the contact; his hands pinched around the gauze. His face got so red, he feared a nosebleed. All this flustered him, made him hate himself. And hate Shizu-chan for making him feel that way. He wasn't dumb, he knew what it meant, but he couldn't acknowledge it. He couldn't face it yet, alone. He was trying to look away, trying to think of something smart to say, when Shizuo's grip slacked off. They stared at each other. Light dawned in the blonde's eyes.

"Wait…" He frowned, looking Izaya up and down, before his face broke out in a mocking smile. "Are you… _turned on right now?_"


	5. Facing it, Head On

**A.N: Chapter 5=arrived! In the home stretch, guys! Next chapter is going to be the end :D. ALL RIGHT. Business time. I've never written for Izaya and Shizuo before this fic, and to be honest with you all, I have not even watched the entire show yet ^^'.. I tried my best with Izaya, but if he comes off out of character, please feel free to review and tell me so I can correct him for an accurate ending :D. Thank you so much for your support and kind words! Keep them coming! They make my day! XDD**

**(Oh, and I know Shizuo's eyes are brown now XD. If it says they are blue in this chapter, let me know, and I'll fix it! LOL)**

5. Facing it, Head on

The question hit them both like thunder. The room was so quiet afterward, so pressing, that it almost hurt Izayas's ears. He started babbling to fill the silence.

"Of course not, Shizu-chan~!" He was trying to laugh it off, trying to be coy as he always was. "That's just your own desire talking. Do you really want me that badly~?" Izaya's voice, albeit shivery, was the most stable thing he had. His hands still shook as he wrapped the gauze, now with a frantic vigor, around Shizuo's arm. The rough motions kept jostling the wound.

"Fuck, Izaya, go slower," Shizuo growled, flexing his arm uncomfortably. Izaya couldn't take his eyes off the bicep muscle as it tightened and released, defining itself.

"And I'm pretty sure," Shizuo continued, still scrutinizing the smaller man, "that it's _your_ desire that's talking."

Izaya only smiled an elusive smile at the bartender, who grimaced at the expression. On the inside, he was having a nervous breakdown. This couldn't be happening, could it? It wasn't like anything was _wrong_ with it, of course. But… if Shizuo were to find out… If he were to know how Izaya felt… Izaya tied the gauze tightly with a final pull on the knot, and then stepped back. It was easier to talk to Shizuo when he wasn't looking at him.

"Well, ta-ta, Shizuchan~!," he said, wiping off blood from his knife before folding it up. They were done for today. Maybe he'd take a few days off from Shizuo, to give himself time to sort out the things he felt. As he turned away from the bartender, walking towards the swinging door, a hand reached out and gripped his wrist.

"Izaya, wait." Shizuo's voice was that silkiness again. It rolled off his tongue, deep timbre permeating through the room, flooding Izaya's being. The raven-haired man felt the tell-tale signs. The heart. The stomach. He started trying to pull away, but Shizuo didn't let go. "Ah, ah, ah," he tutted, dragging Izaya closer and closer, wearing a wispy little smile. "I caught you."

Izaya was electrified by the sensation. Now he couldn't pull away, even if he wanted to. Shizuo turned him back around, holding Izaya's arm high above their heads so they were forced into close proximity. Izaya's breath came out in pants. Shizuo chuckled.

"Such a cute face, Izaya," he said, lips moving closer. Izaya stared at them. They were so pink and soft-looking. He shuddered when Shizuo slipped a hand up his shirt, cold fingers on his skin. "You should wear it more often."

Izaya felt a sudden closeness to Shizuo, a consensus. It was liberating, and all together enlightening. If Shizu-chan felt this way too, why then there was no reason why they couldn't just get it on right now in his apartment, was there? And how fitting, for it to come after a nice little spar! Sure, his body was achy from getting thrown around, but there was no hatred in him for Shizu-chan. In fact, now that he thought about it, there never really had been.

Sure, they fought like cats and dogs. Sure, he terrorized Shizuo whenever he got the chance and blamed him for horrid crimes he would never do. Sure, it _looked_ like Izaya hated Shizuo, but in reality, he was just getting his attention. Shizuo, after that first day in high school, could never look away from Izaya without feeling something strong, whether it be hate or love, and no matter where the blonde went, he could never forget about him. Izaya knew this. Izaya lived for it. And now, here in the apartment, here with Shizu-chan and the cool air from the window, and the blood around the floorboards, the leaking bathroom, the devastated wall-… Izaya wanted to love him.

Love him like no one else could.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya breathed it into his ear, slipping his arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his face there, against the soft skin. He smiled into the curve of Shizuo's neck. For a moment it was beautiful. It was heaven.

Then, Shizuo started chuckling. Then cackling, and then all out rocking with laughter. Izaya, eyes now wide open and red, staring at the space over Shizuo's shoulders, didn't move. What was so funny?

It was Shizuo who broke the embrace, his face the epitome of the entertained. He was waving his hands, waving Izaya off, still laughing with that baritone, wall-shaking laugh he had. "Oh, for fuck's _sake_, Izaya!" He pointed at Izaya's crotch, now shaking with his spasming mirth. "You _are_ turned on!"

Izaya slowly looked down at himself, at the self-conscious bulge in his pants. His face burned again, but he couldn't really feel it. He had never… been so humiliated. Was this what being rejected was like? He had asked Shizu-chan, not with words but with actions, to be with him. To do things with him. And now he was being laughed at.

Well… damn.

It hurt.

Hurt like no amount of ass-kicking from Shizuo ever would—not in the physical sense, at least. Nobody moved for a few seconds. Izaya just stood there, fists clenching and relaxing, while Shizuo calmed himself down into a contained giggle. After long inhale through his nose, Izaya started marching out of the room. Shizuo had to smirk at the snooty look on Izaya's face.

"Where are you going?" he asked impishly. It had a flirty edge to it, but Izaya took that as a mockery. Shizu-chan was just being mean.

"Away," he said, and that's all he said. He didn't stop walking. When he reached the doorway, Shizuo spoke again, this time more inquisitively.

"Seriously, where are you going?"

"Away, I said," Izaya snapped, glaring over his shoulder. He was severely pissed. Shizuo had led him on when he was being serious! Izaya fucked around with people's minds, sure, but he tried to act serious when people were being really serious. "Don't follow me."

He stomped out.

Naturally, Shizuo had to follow him. Snatching up his shirt as he went, only a few large strides caught him up with Izaya. He slipped an arm through a sleeve, grinning, still believing this to be some sort of twisted foreplay. He had laughed, of course, because it was completely unexpected. Not undesired, just sudden. Izaya surprised him all the time, and this was a pleasant surprise.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked, hands in his pockets. He fished around for a cigarette. Izaya muttered something under his breath and quickened his pace. Shizuo followed suit. They went down the stairs together, one by one, and at the bottom Izaya spun around.

"I said to get away, Shizu-chan~!"

He was so _cute_, was all Shizuo could think. That adorable little way he got frustrated like this. Shizuo had to chuckle at it, but this just seemed to infuriate Izaya more. The raven-haired informant took off, and Shizuo had to bolt into a run to keep up.

"Hey, what kind of foreplay is this?" Shizuo called, voice playful. Izaya rounded a corner, sprinting down a dark alleyway. The walls were tall, closed them both in on all sides. Izaya, eyes trained to look for openings, found a fire escape at the far end. He reached it with a screeching halt, and started to climb. Shizuo followed, still grinning up a storm.

That's when it hit.

_THE IRONY OF IT ALL_.

Here they were, Shizuo and Izaya. One chasing the other, like normal. But the roles were reversed. Izaya was the angry one, the hurt one, the infuriated beyond belief one, just trying to get rid of an annoying presence in his life. Shizuo was the smirking one, the devious one, the one with the smile and jokes.

They had switched roles over the course of a day.

Shizuo seemed to realize this at the same time Izaya did, because they both suddenly stopped, neither one looking at the other, but both pairs of eyes searching the invisible distance for the answer.

Why were they acting like this?...

…?

"Fuck it," said Izaya, and kept climbing. Shizuo blinked out of his trance, and glanced up at the retreating form above him. He started scaling again, keeping Izaya in view.

"Izaya, I'm being serious," he said, voice indeed serious. "What are you trying to do? Why are you mad?"

"Why _aren't_ _you_ mad?" Izaya asked, a challenge in his tone. Shizuo's fists tightened on the cold rails, even though the damn comment made hardly any sense. It was getting dark out, the sun falling on the day, setting on the action in Ikebukuru. Shizuo's foot slipped on a stair, and he ripped the edge of his pants. Now he was irritated.

"Keep this up, and I certainly_ will_ be," he growled, hefting himself up another flight. The building was very tall, and Shizuo, while not afraid of heights, was getting nervous. Just how long was the ass going to climb? "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Izaya's body froze, seized up, and when he turned around, there was an expression of startling rage on his face. "Piss off, Shizuo! I fucking hate your guts! That's what's wrong!" Then he turned around and heaved himself up the final few stairs, jumping onto the roof of the building. So high up.

Shizuo, wind blowing his hair, was left speechless. Did he just call him by his formal name? What the hell was _that_ about? A strong gust ripped the glasses from his face, carrying them down to the concrete, where they smashed. Shizuo watched them break into millions of little pieces. His chest sunk.

He found Izaya at the far edge of the building, looking over the ledge into the abyss below. Shizuo stood at the other end, one hand on the fire escape railing, the other in his pocket. No one said anything. The wind howled over them. The night was cold and icy.

"Are you on a fucking period or something?" Shizuo finally blurted, glaring at the man. "Five minutes ago you wanted in my pants. Now you're telling me you hate me. What the hell, Izaya?"

Izaya didn't moved, still staring over the edge of the building. It was so far down there. It looked pretty far. Maybe not that far. Still a jump. Some people think of suicide when they look over cliffs like that, but Izaya could only think of luring Shizuo over the edge, then grabbing him at the last minute, to show him what real fear felt like.

How scared Izaya had been, being vulnerable and open to his enemy. He exposed a sensitive front, and it felt like Shizuo stomped all over it, laughing as he did so. Izaya listened to Shizuo's words, but didn't really hear them. He smoothed his hair with his fingers, relaxed into a smile.

"You know, Shizu-chan," he said, looking over at the blonde. "We aren't very different, are we?"

Shizuo just stood there. Izaya was back to talking nonsense, like he always was. Maybe that was a good sign. "What?" he asked, moving a little closer. Izaya gazed out at the horizon again, the sinking sun.

"You and I, Shizu-chan," he said again. His voice sounded sad, almost nostalgic. "What exactly do we even mean to each other?"

Shizuo felt pinned down. What was he supposed to say to that? Izaya certainly meant _something_ to him, but he couldn't just regale the man with brazen overtures of affection. That wasn't his style. He shrugged, clearing his throat. "Need each other…"

Izaya turned his head a little, hand to his ear. "What was that, Shizu-chan~?" He was smiling now, if only just a little. Shizuo gritted his teeth and spoke up.

"We need each other, I guess," he said, rather lamely. Izaya turned to look at him, a glint in his eye. This was the apology. This was the renewal.

"Who do you need~?" Izaya asked, voice quiet.

Shizuo didn't answer.

"Who, Shizu-chan, do you need~?"

"…You."

"What~?"

"…You, Izaya…Fuck."

"… I can't hear you, Shi-"

Shizuo's voice roared from his throat, reverberating along the streets and sky. "I NEED YOU! OKAY?" His cheeks flushed, and he rubbed his hair with his hands. "DID I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT? I MEAN, SHIT!"

Izaya could only smile at this, hands digging into his pockets as he let his head tilted back to look at the sky, the blue blanket with no stars. It was too bright in Ikebukuro to allow for any of the little specks to shine through. Izaya knew they were there, though. They were just hiding. Shizuo was a little pink, slightly embarrassed for screaming so loudly. Another cold breeze whipped past them, and Shizuo hunched his shoulders.

"All right, whatever," he grumbled, closing his eyes and frowning hard. He was frustrated, like normal, but it wasn't unbearable. Izaya just frustrated him. "How do you feel about me?"

Izaya glanced over at him, a little surprised that Shizuo wanted him to say it aloud. After the scene in the apartment, he didn't know if he needed to. He hopped up on the edge of the building, holding his arms out for balance. Shizuo flinched forward, just a little. He didn't want Izaya playing around up there, since they were so high up. Izaya saw his slight movement, and only scoffed at him.

"Oh, please, Shizu-chan~," he said, giving a sniff of pride. "If I can scale walls to outrun you, I'm sure I can keep my balance on a foot width concrete beam~."

"Shut up," Shizuo said, huddling his arms together. He had lost a little blood and was cold outside. He just wanted to get the fuck back to his apartment, and bring the damnable adorable flea with him. He blinked when he noted that Izaya still hadn't answered him. "Answer my question."

"I don't need you," Izaya said, watching his feet as he teetered along the edge, smiling mysteriously to himself. He watched Shizuo wilt a little at his response, but before the bartender could work himself up into a world-shattering rage, Izaya continued with what he was saying. "I want you."

Shizuo, still wary of it being an insult to his affection, glared. "What?"

"I don't need you, Shizu-chan. I don't _have _to have you," he said. He smirked wider. "I _want_ to have you with me. There's a difference."

Shizuo, by now, was smiling too. "You're just screwing with me. You need me. Don't deny it."

"Do not~!"

"Do too."

"Do not~!"

"Do _too._"

"Do not~!"

"Do the hell TOO, now get off that damn thing before you fall and let's go," he said. He didn't want to argue with him out here. They could at least curl up in a warm house before they settled into a lengthy discussion about Izaya's needs.

* * *

Meanwhile, in an apartment not too far away, Namie sat at a small dinner table for two, steaming food on a pair of plates. One was in front of her, one in front of an empty seat. She poked her rice around, glaring daggers at it. It wasn't much longer before she slammed her fist on the table, knocking over a glass of wine.

"That damn Izaya! Making me cook and not coming _home!_ I'm going to _kill _him!" she said, crossing her arms and ankles. She looked at the table, eyes slightly drooped, lips pressed together. She laid her head onto her arms, burying it there. "He's such an ass."

* * *

Shizuo watched mildly as Izaya, still trotting with arrogance along the concrete ribbon around the building, contorted his face into one of dreamy expectancy, and then snapped forward with a violent sneeze into the crook of his arm. He stumbled a little, and Shizuo snorted.

"You see? Catching cold from the weather, you damn flea," he said. Starting to walk towards him, he extended a reluctant hand. He was new to this 'romantic interest' thing. "Come on."

Izaya, rubbing his nose on the edge of his sleeve, started to reach forward, but was compromised by another fast approach of nasal irritation. This one hit him right away, full force, and he tried to turn away from Shizuo to release it.

He pivoted.

He sneezed.

He lost balance.

He slipped.

**A.N: Mwahahahahahaha! I'm KILLING IZAYA!... Just kidding.. did I have you going for a second? :3**


	6. No More Mind Games

**A.N: OMG! THE END IS HERE! First of all, let me thank all the lovely readers who reviewed, and followed this crazy ride until the very end. This is going to be the first fic I've ever finished and posted, so this is an exciting moment LOL. I hope this is a satisfactory ending for all of you. I hope this entertained you, or brought you joy in some way. So, enjoy :D!**

6. No More Mind Games

Shizuo swore.

"FUCK!" He jumped forward to catch him, to latch onto him, but gravity was a little too fast for Shizuo. He missed Izaya's groping hands by perhaps half an inch. It happened so fast, like a drive-by. It didn't make sense. Shizuo threw himself against the edge of the building, bending over it, stomach doubled over the cool concrete. He could feel it grating him through his clothes. Izaya, not one to be easily beaten, was hanging by the tips of his fingers on the edge of a window sill only a few feet below. He didn't look frightened at all, though his disposition radiated one of slight discomfort.

"Good catch, Shizu-chan," he quipped, grinning up at the blonde. Even in this position he could be catty. Shizuo could only rub a hand over his face, body a little weak from the intense scare. That had been frightening.

"Shit, Izaya," he said, reaching a long arm to take his hand.

"Awwh, were you worried about me~?" Izaya asked, teasing him. He turned his head to rub his nose on the sleeve of his fuzzy jacket, sniffling a little. It really was cold, and dangling out in the wind surely wasn't making it any warmer. Shizuo stretched, making a deep noise of effort, but he couldn't seem to reach Izaya.

"Shut up, I was not," he said. He was, and they both knew it, but neither one of them mentioned it. Izaya sported an incredibly smug smile, though. He sniffled, wrinkling his nose, and Shizuo could see that he had to sneeze again. The way his cute little face was drawing into a far-away look said it clearly. He stretched a little further, and Izaya reached a hand up to meet him there. They fell short, fingers almost touching.

"Damn," Shizuo said. He watched Izaya's face, the contortion, the gathering grimace. He warned him. "Don't you dare sneeze. You'll be doing it in my face, and you'll probably fall."

Izaya uttered a breathy laugh, eyes closing, breath catching. The sneeze was well contained, because he tried to hold it in, but the jostle of his body ruined his precarious hold on the sill, and he lost his grip. Shizuo screamed as he reached after the smaller man, tipping far over the edge of the building, feet not longer on the ground. He balanced there, stomach starting to hurt from the pressure of leaning on it. Izaya, with his mastering of parkour, managed to catch another edge on the way down. They were ten feet apart now, both hanging from the building in contrasting positions.

"I told you," Shizuo growled under his breath, glaring at the suspended Izaya below him, who was looking up with a smile as he once again wiped his nose. "Now there's no _way_ I can get to you."

"Oh please, Shizu-chan~!" Izaya said, cheery as ever. He seemed unfazed by the dire situation. To him, he couldn't see himself dying, and if he did, well…no big deal, he supposed. "You're the one with the invincibility. Come down here and get me."

It was a request, a command, and a sexy come on. Shizuo recognized it for all of those things, and sighed, frustrated that they were doing this on the face of a tall building and turned on that Izaya could remain attractive in the damp, chill night while he swayed from a window sill. Izaya smirked up at him, eyes slit and bright against the deepening night. Shizuo smiled back.

"You're cute, you know," Shizuo said, leaning up and lifting one leg over the side, then the other. He edged on his butt along the ledge of the building until he found a foothold. Izaya, adjusting his grip as he swung on the side of the building, chuckled.

"Oh, I know," he said. He shook some black hair out of his eyes, once again adjusting his grip. His hands were starting to hurt, his arms tiring. As if Shizuo were psychic, he heard the blonde's stern, irritated voice.

"Don't even _think_ about letting go," he said. He was lowering his feet precariously onto a nearby windowsill, having to place them laterally in order to ensure gripping. He wasn't scared exactly, but the whole situation was packed with tension. He could feel the cords standing out on his neck.

"Oh, silly Shizu-chan," Izaya mused. He had a fond expression on his face; he closed his eyes. "I won't fall."

"You're tired," Shizuo said, staring at him as a gust of wind passed them. Izaya's smile wavered. "You're arms are getting tired."

"Well, your shoulder is stabbed through," Izaya replied, eyes wandering over to the bandaged arm—the one he had hurt. He felt a little bad about it now, but only a little. "Maybe _you_ should take care not to fall, sweetheart."

Shizuo grimaced at the name, holding onto the gutter as he started inching near Izaya. They were still at least 8 feet apart by height, maybe 2 by length. His shoulder _was_ aching, but it didn't bother him much. He learned to ignore those things over the years.

"Don't call me that," he said, staring at his feet as he leaned to another sill.

"Why not? You _are_ sweet."

"Not really."

"Sometimes, Shizu-chan~."

"Hardly."

"Most days~."

"None of them."

"To me, anyway," Izaya remarked quietly. To him, Shizuo was sweet. It was his temper and callous way of speaking that made him that way. It was the hate they openly displayed. Even though hate was the farthest thing from sweet that there was, to Izaya (who wasn't entirely normal), he found their hate endearing. Shizuo glanced over at Izaya. They were getting closer, but neither one could reach very far comfortably. They were both hanging onto the side of an apartment complex by the sills of windows. It felt very unsteady.

"You think?" Shizuo asked, smiling just a little.

"Maybe," Izaya said, smirking openly. His smile faded automatically, however, when Shizuo's foot slipped. The blonde grunted, grabbing hold of a sill. He was almost four feet above Izaya, about a foot to the left. Izaya's body twitched, but he kept himself from letting go. "Shizu-chan? Are you okay?"

Shizuo took a short breath, arm burning. Shit, he wished Izaya hadn't stabbed him. It was coming back to bite them both in the ass. The stress on the wounded area, the torn muscle, was starting to take a toll. When he didn't answer, Izaya pressed him again.

"Shizu-chan," he said. "Shizuo!"

"Damn, my arm," he grunted. He didn't want to make Izaya feel too bad, but he couldn't hide it anymore. It was hurting him. "It hurts."

"No shit," Izaya said wryly, more because he was angry at himself for stabbing Shizuo. He should have seen something like this coming. But then again, how could he? They were both acting so out of character. Neither one of them could have predicted the night would end like this. "Can you move?"

Shizuo kept trying to fix his grip, to move around and hang in a way that wouldn't hurt so bad, but he couldn't. No matter how he gripped the sill, his arm throbbed with a piercing heat. It was exhausting. He let go to hang with his uninjured arm.

"Not really," he said. His eyes averted in the darkness. "Sorry."

They were both just dangling there, one man slightly below the other. As much as Izaya hated to tell him, his own grip was failing. He had been hanging on for several minutes now, and he wasn't as strong as the superman Heiwajima. Shizuo was right. He was tired.

"No, my fault," he said, trying to suspend himself with only one hand like Shizuo, but he wasn't strong enough. He had to grip with both hands. His was starting to make noises of exertion. Little grunts. He screwed up his face. He was shaking. Shizuo, his good arm keeping him easily afloat in the sky, looked down at Izaya.

"What? What's wrong?" He broke out into a grin. "You're not-…getting off on this, are y-"

"No, you ass." Izaya cut him off before he could finish, face tinting pink. His moans did make him sound a little aroused. That wasn't the case, though. "I-…" He closed his eyes tightly, letting out a small groan. "…I can't do it anymore."

Shizuo's grin fell. "What?" He started scrambling, trying to shimmy downward fast enough to get to his flea, but slow enough to do it safely. Doing it one armed was impossible. "Damn it, Izaya. Don't you let go."

Izaya was trying so hard. His arms felt like they were caving in on themselves, folding inside the layers of muscle and falling apart. He kicked his legs, trying to sustain himself. His face was tight. He shook his head, jaw clenching.

"Can't," he whispered. He choked a little. It was a struggle. "I can't."

Shizuo was in a panic. If this turned out to be a sick prank, he would beat Izaya within an inch of his life. This was freaking him out. This was scary. Izaya, dangling several dozen feet above a concrete surface, wouldn't make it. Shizuo wasn't even sure if he himself would make it. Though he could hang one-armed from a building for hours, he didn't know how well he would sustain a rock-to-body collision from this height. Shit, if only his arm wasn't burning so badly! One look at Izaya's face though, and he knew he had to.

He grabbed the sill with both hands, resisting the urge to scream out from the pain. Blood soaked the gauze, beginning to break through the fabric of his shirt.

"Izaya, you can do this. Don't let go."

Izaya couldn't really even talk anymore. He was shuddering terribly. Shizuo lowered himself a little more. They were within a reaching distance. His shoulder and upper arm beat him with steady pulses of pain. He ignored them. Extending a hand, his voice carried over the wind. He had to shout to be heard.

"Izaya, take my hand! Reach up!"

Izaya, beads of sweat standing out on his face, looked up at the blonde above him. Shizuo's heart melted. The look of sheer helplessness—pure fear. It was striking, adorable, and abominably sad. Izaya never looked like that. The informant, slowly, with effort known only to those who face the eyes of someone special to them, lifted one hand from the sill.

A wind gushed past them.

Shizuo strained to reach.

Izaya began to slip. He gritted his teeth.

Their hands met in a small embrace, and Shizuo, with a cry like that Hercules, pulled Izaya up close to him and groped about his body until he found a sturdy niche around the smaller man's waist. He did all of this one handed, his bleeding arm spewing tiny daggers of agony throughout his body as it sustained him, suspending them above the city.

Such is the power of love. Or was it love? What emotion had they experienced together this night? What could drive them to this, two mortal enemies?

Izaya pressed his face against Shizuo's neck, his arms wrapping around his chest. The informant had been more afraid then he wanted to let on. Izaya liked to believe he welcomed death, and to an extent he did. Insane though he was, Izaya was still a human being, built with a body that wanted to keep living. He was physically spent. He couldn't even feel his arms, and his legs had since fallen asleep from hanging there so long. He was cold and emotionally vulnerable. Shizuo couldn't decide whether the moisture on the nape of his neck was sweat or tears.

Izaya mumbled something against his skin and Shizuo, now calm and rather tranquil (even though his arm was giving him hell), rested his cheek on Izaya's head.

"What?"

Izaya muttered again, and Shizuo smiled faintly. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

The black-haired head under his cheek jostled and Izaya looked up with a face that attempted bravery and indifference, but failed utterly. Shizuo's eyebrows rose.

"I need you," Izaya said, sniffling, voice thick. "I need you, I need you, I need you."

Shizuo just stared at first, each eyebrow coming down slowly; one and then the other. No one had told him that before, and while he knew it to be true with Izaya, he didn't believe it until this very moment.

They needed each other. Whether it be in love or in hate, in truth or in lies, they needed one another. Who else could Shizuo depend on? The flea was always there, as annoying as it was, but he was always there. Out in the open, hanging from an apartment unit with a bleeding, tearing arm, the man he loved and hated clung to his side as they swayed in the wind, under the cool night. It was suddenly very profound. Shizuo leaned forward just a little, voice the lowest, and the very gentlest he had ever dared to make it.

"I need you, too," he said. "I always have."

Izaya sniffed again, rubbing his nose on his shoulder. Shizuo just smiled, leaning forward to press his lips against the corner of Izaya's mouth. It was a small start, a shy one, but it bloomed into the lotus kisses of lovers, and haters. Along the mouth, the jaw-line, the earlobes, the neck. They were not hungry kisses, but they were passionate and long-overdue. One of Izaya's hands tangled into Shizuo's blonde hair, and Shizuo pulled Izaya ever the more closer to him.

They kissed in the privacy of the open world, in the dead of night, when only the hidden stars were watching. The stars could not be seen all the time, but they were always there. They always had been. No one really noticed them or paid them any mind because they were tiny and dim, but to the eyes of lovers they were the symbol of adoration. They were things to cherish. They were things to think about sometimes, before you went to sleep. They were simple, and yet there were so many of them now. So much starlight, winking proudly in the night. Shizuo and Izaya scarcely saw them, but they could feel them. They could sense that feeling stars radiated.

It was love. Or hate. Probably both.

* * *

**A.N: Oh geez.. this ending was so sappy and out of character LOL. I'm sorry to the die-hard ShizuoxIzaya fans who are disappointed! They were already slipping a little in the last chapter, so I just finished it up on a lovey note XD**

**THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING, and all your kind reviews! They have been very encouraging! I'm really glad that a lot of you seemed to like it! You guys have all really encouraged me to write more and improve :D. Leave me a review if you like/hate the ending XD.**

**So…. sequel, anyone? XD We sort of leave them hanging off of a BUILDING, after all x3**


	7. SEQUEL UPDATE

**A.N: HEY GUYS! Sorry if I tricked you or something XP. This isn't a new chapter, but I wanted to let anyone who really liked this story that I'm going to continue it in a sequel :D. The first chapter will be up in the next few days, maybe a week ^^.. It's called, "More Mind Games," so it won't be that hard to remember XD. A big huge thank you to everyone who read "Mind Games," and I hope I can continue to serve in the future ^^! For your reading pleasure, I have placed below the giant author's note that I have on the first chapter of the sequel, to give you all an idea of any changes I may be adding, and perhaps a little low down on plot beforehand. You'll see it all again come the first chapter of the new story LOL.**

"This is a sequel to _Mind Games_, which I advise you read first, otherwise this is going to seem really random LOL. This one picks up right where the last one leaves off:

.net/s/6794370/1/Mind_Games

I had so much fun writing the first one, I just had to start another! Shizuo and Izaya are SO cute together, and their relationship can be taken into so many complicated subtexts.

IF you're lazy and don't want to read the first one (even though I would love you forever if you did!) here's the basic summary: Shizuo and Izaya, over the course of a day, suddenly realize their need for one another. Now, after saving Izaya from falling from a building, Shizuo is forced to think about what it all _really_ means XD.

OKAY. So I had a kind reviewer of my last fic tell me that my Izaya and Shizuo were a little out of character, since they kind of went from "I hate your guts!" to "I LOVE YOU!" in about a day XDD. SO, I'm going to try and make this one a little more realistic XD. It's going to be a kind of "I'm coming off my 'I-love-you' high, and now what is this really even supposed to mean?" sort of thing LOL. Let me know if it works or not! ^^

I think this one's going to come out a little heavier and dramatic XD"

**I hope this is good news for most of you! :D**


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